Wrong Injection

CHAPTER 10

I groggily opened my eyes to find my mom, Sarah, standing in front of my window, the early morning sun streaming in behind her. I groaned, feeling the brightness pierce through my brain. "Mom, please pull the curtains together," I begged, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. But mom was not having it. She walked over to the other window and parted the curtains, letting even more sunlight flood into the room. I moaned, feeling like I was being tortured. "Mom," I complained, trying to shield my eyes from the sun. But she chuckled and pulled the duvet off me.

"Come on Sultan, wake up boy," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You need to get ready for your trip." She walked over to my closet and began packing some of my clothes for my trip to Ghana.

I sat up, still feeling sleepy, and rubbed my eyes. "Good morning," I greeted her, with my rough voice from sleep. And she smiled and replied, "Good morning Sultan." She continued packing my clothes, her hands moving efficiently as she made sure I had everything I needed for my trip.

I watched her for a moment, feeling a surge of gratitude towards her. Mom Sarah wasn't my biological mom, but she had taken me in and raised me as her own after my parents died. My biological mom had passed away shortly after giving birth to me, and my father had died in a plane crash on his way back to New York City. I had lost both parents on the same day, but Mom Sarah had been there for me, providing love and care when I needed it most.

The revelation that Mom Sarah wasn't my biological mother had been a shock to me. I had grown up thinking she was my mom, and it wasn't until my high school graduation day that she finally told me the truth. It was a lot to take in, but she and my Uncle Farad, who I had believed to be my father, showed me pictures and evidence that proved they weren't my biological parents.

At first, I felt a mix of emotions - shock, anger, and confusion. At the fact that they kept the truth from me for so long.  But as I looked at Mom Sarah at the moment, I saw the love and care in her eyes, and I knew that she had done it all for me. She raised me as her own, scolding me when I was wrong, punishing me when necessary, and loving me unconditionally. I was grateful to her for giving me a happy and normal childhood, despite the fact that I was an orphan.

And when my paternal and maternal families finally came around and explained why they kept the truth from me, I understood their reasoning. They wanted to protect me from the pain and suffering of being an orphan, wanted me to have a happy and carefree childhood. I appreciated their concern for my mental health, but a part of me wished they had told me the truth sooner. Because I wasn't the first or the last child to lose their parents at birth.

I walked out of the bathroom, towel-drying my wet hair, and saw my mom still packing my bag. "You still packing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes my boy, just added an extra jacket." I nodded, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

"Thanks, is breakfast ready?" I asked, feeling a rumble in my stomach and she nodded.

"Breakfast is long ready, but before we break our fast, I would like to have a conversation with you, son." She said, her tone serious. I hesitated for a moment, sensing where the conversation was headed. But I nodded, holding her hand as we walked over to sit on my bed.

"What do you want to say to me?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. And Mom took a deep breath before launching into the topic.

"My boy, it's about you still being single." She started, and I groaned, tilting my head back in exasperation. I knew exactly where this conversation was going.

"Mom, can we talk about this some other time?" I asked, trying to deflect the conversation. But mom was not having it.

"Would you let me finish talking, boy?" she snapped, her tone firm but loving. And I groaned, knowing I was in for a lecture.

Her eyes then sparkled with a mix of concern and curiosity as she asked, "When are you planning on settling down?" I stayed quiet, knowing that I wasn't ready to give her the answer she wanted to hear.

"When you're fifty? Or sixty?" She pressed on, her tone gentle but firm. "Sultan, I know you tried making Veronica your girlfriend and it didn't work, but that doesn't mean there aren't other beautiful, loyal girls out there. You're clocking thirty-five in a few months, and you still don't have a woman in your life." I couldn't help but chuckle at her dramatics.

"Mom, I have women in my life," I said, knowing that I was about to get a rise out of her. But mom was not having it.

"I'm not talking about these whores, silly!" she snapped, her eyes flashing with annoyance. And I laughed, enjoying the banter.

"You need a real woman who would love and care for you. You need to start thinking of making your own family. I want to see junior Sultan running all over the place." She beamed, her eyes shining with excitement. And I playfully rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Mother's will always be mother's," I thought to myself, smiling at her antics.

"There's nothing such as love in this era, mom, it's all lust and material things for these women," I said, and she gave me a stale face. "What?" I asked, laughing, but she just shook her head and said, "Breakfast is ready." And just like that, she ended the conversation, leaving me to wonder what I had said to offend her. I laughed even harder as I watched her walk out with a long face. She would never understand today's women.

After breakfast, mom left to visit a friend, and I spent some time replying to a couple of emails.
Finally, it was time for me to leave for Africa. The Chancellor of New York University had called earlier to say they were ready to leave, and I believed they had already departed.

As I grabbed my phone from my bed, one of my maids took my luggage out to the car. I was about to exit my room when I bumped into someone. I looked up, and my eyes widened in surprise. It was Veronica.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as Veronica's warm breath caressed my ear. Her seductive whisper and gentle lick sent a spark of desire through my body. I tried to maintain my composure, but it was clear that she still had a hold on me. "What do you want, Veronica?" I asked, my voice firm but betraying a hint of curiosity.

"Haven't you missed me?" She said, her voice above a whisper. And I watched as she walked into my room and sat on my bed, then slowly parted her legs. My eyes instantly widened when I saw she had no thong on. I clenched my teeth, as I loved what I was seeing.

"Damn." I said through gritted teeth when she dipped her fingers into her vagina and began moaning. I couldn't control myself as I stood there watching her play with herself. So I looked at my watch on my wrist and noticed I had more time to have sex with her before I leave. "Dammit." I gritted out and rushed to her and kissed her forcefully.